A quick death was a painless one.
Kill quickly.
The thoughts came clear to her, the most sophisticated she'd had in her short existence, and yet, they were really such simple concepts. Life and death were a knot that the little python could hardly begin to unravel, but at the very least, she could maneuver around it. Or through.
Or not at all.
His words brought too-early relief. She didn't need to make pain.
Take life, from grass.
Desire thought about it, and she knew not the limits to her "power" or her "magic," but she tried to do something with it.
It was to little avail; more plants sprouted from her skin, though stronger and taller and with little green leaves. Was she unable to do it? Could she ever do something like that? A consuming sadness came over her as she looked to the mouse, dead mouse, dead mouse, dead, dead, dead ! She whimpered and receded into a pile of curling body, dramatically hiding herself away from the cruel world!

@Khloros

Khloros stared, curiosity stirring within him in a far less muted, distant fashion than usual. He found that the new-hatched snake had piqued his interest.

She was not only growing new life--but she seemed distressed by the death of that which she had to kill in order to survive. He reached out his nose in an instinctive gesture, some long-distant half-forgotten warmth stirring in him. He stopped just short of nudging her, aware of the illnesses he carried, but he spoke.

"...Do you--mourn it?" he asked, quietly.

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@Desire

She heard him come close, heard his breath, soft against her scales.
Do you mourn it?
The little white snake raised her head just barely off her body to look the shadow in the eye. "I gave it pain," she whimpered, "so I could eat. You say it does not talk, but do you know? I gave it pain if it speak or not speak." She withdrew back into her scales slowly, ruby eyes wandering over the corpse. She squeezed them shut.

@Khloros

Khloros felt himself stirred, sympathy trickling faintly through him. He whuffled, leaning forward to blow warm air over the snake, gently.

"Pain is bad," he agreed. "But death, I think, is not so bad. It is an end to pain; and the dead are born again, in time. They are not gone forever, though they will never come back exactly the same. I will tell you why many do not kill those who can speak."

He shifted on his knees, a bit, eyeing the little snake, again hoping that what he said was not too complex for her.

"To kill a mouse, that cannot speak: there is pain only for an instant, and then rest. But to kill one who can speak--all who knew it, suffer for its absence. They grieve for it to be missing and gone, as you mourn the mouse now. That is why we kill only those who will not be missed." Cold, perhaps, but true enough, as he saw it.

"Death alone, though--that is natural. You are right to pity it its pain. It is why I stop pain, where I can. It is a bad thing."

The black horse looked around, quietly keeping watch, to ensure nothing else was about to make the snake its next meal.

What a tragedy, though, to grieve and mourn those you must kill to survive. It is a pain of its own; yet to be admired, I think. I have known those who eat only grass, who have held less compassion.

Khloros slowly blinked, a minor realization hitting him--he did not think he had asked the creature's name. Perhaps it didn't have one, yet--or maybe she'd given it, and he had forgotten? Never mind; he would ask again.

"Do you have a name? Do you know yours, yet?" he questioned quietly.

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@Desire

The warm air he breathed over her was comforting, rankness aside. As he spoke, Desire opened her ruby eyes, as if taking the information in visually would be both possible and helpful. Understanding was a warm embrace she knew little of, but when it came, she was glad for it. She supposed she would be quite sad if the shadow were to die. He was attached to this new world, and without him - there was nothing she knew beyond him, beyond where they stood to converse. There was comfort in thinking that he would return if he did die, and that the mouse would as well. The little corpse was lined with puncture marks, the red ooze partially dried but still shiny and wet where it was thickest. But if I did not speak to the mouse, why do I mourn it? If creatures mourned the dead they knew - she sighed a hiss. It was not something she could comprehend.

The little snake felt lighter in the slightest, and could, in the throes of juvenile grief, manage to lift herself up to answer the shadow. "Of course," she said, "I am Desire." It was the one thing she had come into the world knowing, and she clung to it for life and dignity. Her talk with the shadow had been enlightening in that she learned a great many things, and that she had a great many things to learn. The confusion that accompanied the conversation gave her a funny feeling that she did not like. She liked knowing her name. Desire.She tilted her porcelain head, the world and the shadow tilting with it. "What is your name, shadow?"

@Khloros

"Khloros. My name is Khloros," he rasped back at her, pleased at least to see that she seemed to be less distressed.

"I think many of us come into the world knowing our names; we remember them, perhaps, from a past time, or another place. Perhaps when we are reborn, we keep our names from before, or we knew the word--the name--as something important to us. I do not know. I remember voices, when I hatched, voices in the dark, but I think they were memories from another time. Another person."

He absently mouthed his own foreleg, half-grooming away a patch of sloughing skin, thinking.

This might all be too complicated. It is almost too complex for me.

With that thought in mind, he pricked up his ears and looked, again, to Desire.

"Do not worry if the world, or the things in it, confuse you. None of us know all; there are many things I do not know. We search for our answers, and that is part of what life is."

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@Desire

"Khloros," she said aloud, once. It had a different kind of sound than her own name, a different feeling. Desire knew not the significance of a name except that it defined you, or rather, provided the word for something to be defined. This she could not have placed into words on her own, but the concept was present.

She listened closely to his words as best she could. She thought about it, hard. For a while she tried to put the words together, using his silence to think. Desire thought about the mouse, and the speaking, and the not speaking. About being missed. So when something dies, it remembers itself, when it lives again?" She played his words, as they were recalled - disjointed, missing pieces - and spoke again. "I want the next me to remember Khloros." She said it simply, flatly. He knew too much to be forgotten; she never wanted to die. But something compelled her to say it. He was the first thing she saw, spoke with, felt. That was significant.
"Then I will keep learning," she said.

@Khloros

He listened, ears pricked up, and he learned--he learned, because the tiny thing touched distant emotions that he'd long thought lost. He watched her for a moment after she'd spoken, in a kindly fashion--or as kindly as a pus-ridden diseased horse could--and then bobbed his head in a softly-snorting nod of sorts.

"You are a good-hearted creature, I think. There are not enough of them. Many forget that we are all one--but I suppose it doesn't matter, in the end. What harm is inflicted on one is inflicted on all..." He said this in an absent fashion, glancing away but then looked back to Desire after speaking, continuing.

"I do not know what we remember. You knew your name; I knew mine. I heard words but I do not remember any life from 'before.' But life, our gems--those go on. Reused. Remade. That is why I say that what hurts one, harms all... what helps one, helps all. We are all alive, and the words, 'friend,' and 'enemy,' or 'us' and 'them'--those are only creations of this, one life that we are in. It is very complicated," he added, "and perhaps a little wrong--but it is what I think. My point is that not all are kind. Many forget that we are all here together, and choose to harm, and to cause pain. It is what they are. Instincts drive them to it, things made by the bodies that they're in. Many can be cold or cruel. You might find that someone with kind instincts is hard to find. Value them, when you find them."

But does it matter? Altruism, or selfishness--either is only for survival. Survival is truly all that matters--or is it, if we are reborn? Mm. What matters is a lack of pain...

Khloros' words stilled as his thoughts drifted off into his own mind, and he lay staring unblinking out over Desire's head, absent for a few moments.

It didn't occur to him that he'd probably rambled on in a manner way too esoteric and complicated for a new hatchling--but then, Desire seemed to pick up on the core of what he meant, even if the details were--for now--too much. That was what was important.

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@Desire

She felt a warmth in her body at his words; a warmth where that good heart ought to be, but Desire would not know this. She held fast to every word she could catch; each rasping syllable was a mystery and a half but she tried, oh, she really did. But the words she did catch did not sound good for her. She had to cause death because of her body, to harm one life was to harm all others, she was good-hearted yet those that were good-hearted harmed because of their bodies. The words became tangled and she was lost among them; it was a double-edged sword she could not understand and, perhaps, subconsciously, did not want to. Maybe when she was older she would be able to understand, but would not want to, and then it would be a conscious decision and would she cease to be good-hearted? The python was a mere child and could neither predict nor comprehend the future.

She thought Khloros was "good-hearted." He must have been, for he stopped pain and ate grass which did not feel at all. He was good. Good. Desire remembered what he had said about taking life from the plants instead of from the mouse. I will learn. One day, one day. The little python watched him for a long time. He taught her many things, much of which she could not, and would not, understand for a great long time, but for now she at least knew that she could learn.

She felt a strange sensation in her stomach, like a burning or a clawing or an itch. She sighed, and looked down at the soft corpse. "Ah," she thought. "Hm. I think I must eat the mouse, now. I am glad he will not feel it."

ooc: unless Khloros would like to add anything else, I think maybe we could close this out at 30 posts (two more)? I really enjoyed meeting Khloros! I'd love for them to meet again when Desire is not such a baby brain. @Khloros

Khloros watched, calmly.

"Then eat. I will continue on, soon; you may come with me, or find your own way, but stay hidden in the dark, for now. Others eat small things, and I do not want you to be dead before your time."

He leaned forward to blow a last friendly warm-breath greeting over the snake--or a farewell, now, he supposed; and then he pushed slowly up, planning to give the snake her privacy, and to move on while she ate the mouse.

"I wish you luck. Should you need me, find me; there is a tunnel that leads from this cave, a place of old carvings and many lights--when the lights turn on; and darkness is not normal here. Something is wrong and the lights are off. But when they return--that tunnel leads to a dark cave which glitters with pinpricks of light high above, and there are stone structures within. I live there, and if you call for me I will find you, if I can. If I am there. Travel safely, and learn well, little one."

Khloros stood nearby, awaiting a dismissal, of sorts; then he would depart.

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@Desire -- he will totally wait for any goodbyes etc and then leave :) Exit Khloros?!